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I have anxiety and I was suffering from depression for some amount of time. There, I said it. Yes, I am acknowledging this new information about me on the internet, where I am the coolest person. Its a part of who I am and I am done hiding it.

Living with anxiety is already such a huge struggle and one of the worst parts of it is the people. Whenever I tell someone about my anxiety I get the same kind of responses all the time and I wish I could reply them back with these lines:

Person: but you don’t have to be so afraid all the time, you know.
Me: I guess my brain doesn’t know this.

Person: you have anxiety because you think you have anxiety.
Me: wow you’re a genius but my brain is stupid.

Person: don’t blame your crying on anxiety, you’re just a drama queen.
Me: If I really was one, you had been exiled by now.

Person: are you sure you’re getting an anxiety attack? You probably might be only over thinking?
Me: If overthinking feels like you’re dying then you’re right, I’m over thinking. Don’t mind me wailing in that dark corner.

Person: you just need to learn how to chill rather than taking pills.
Me: umm.. those are chill pills.

Person: you know some people have it worse than you.
Me: so I should be happy? But then there are people who have it much better than me. I’ll just take my anxiety.

I was a lonely kid almost all my childhood. I know what it is like to be a loner. I kept feeling neglected, replaced, and lonely with every fight at home. Whenever something went wrong, I would run away somewhere or start looking at the wall and dream things I wish would happen to me and put an end to my misery.

As a child, I heard and read too many fairy tales, which had this damsel in distress and a prince, who would always come and save her. And that’sexactlywhat I wanted- to be saved from all my life’s problems and also, from myself.

Those dreams happened to be my getaway from the real world I was living in. They gave me hope, someday, someone might come along, make me feel better about myself, about my life and every damn thing. Unfortunately, that never really did happen. In reality, every guy I met was full of himself, just like me. Soon I was tired, resentful, and hopeless.

It took me several months of therapy to understand and accept the fact that nobody is going to save me, I have to do it on my own. I learned that I am not some damsel in distress, and no guy is a prince and that those are some stupid ideas girls have been fed from childhood by society, media, and almost by everyone.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I gave up dreaming completely, but now I know the fine line between unrealistic and realistic dreaming. And, I know you wouldn’t disagree when I say that reality is somewhat better than dreaming.

2017 was a whirlwind of a year for me. I never did soar so high and I never did hit such a rock bottom in my entire life. So, the whole year was very black and white for me. And I came to a conclusion that, may be, if I just “go with the flow”, and managed in between the gray areas I’d be completely fine. I wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of hitting new lows, because I thought I couldn’t take it anymore.

And that’s exactly what I did the whole year of 2018, I played it safe, very very safe. I had no goals, no visions, no plans and basically, no life. All I did was get a job, and sustained it. I didn’t put in anytime for my hobbies, I hardly took any pictures, or continued writing here on my blog, I haven’t painted since a year. The only trips I went on was to my hometown because my parents forced me. I hardly read a book or two, or watched any great movies that I can think of. I was so afraid of falling, and to deal with the pain that I missed my highs too.

Today, when I looked back at 2018, and asked myself what challenges I overcame or what were my achievements? I had no answer. No doubt, I was so miserable at the end of that year. I was wishing my life away, I got so comfortable with who I have become and I had almost accepted that this is what I’m going to be for the rest of my life. I had let myself go and for what? Because change is scary? And what had happened to that girl who took risks and had built her life from nothing? Now am I supposed to tell her that this is you now, you should settle for the mediocre things, because you don’t deserve the best, because you’re fucking afraid of changing and growing?!

I can’t and won’t do that to her. She has worked really hard to bring me where I am now. I am not going to give up on her. This year I’ll take at least a step forward to make myself a better person, the person that I have been always dreaming I could become one day, even if that means failing or dealing with the pain of hitting new lows. And probably that should be my New year resolution.

Because you know what, in the end, we all do owe it to ourselves to become the best versions of ourselves.

Days are hard, and the nights are harder. You think the voice in your head would get weaker and you’d get stronger but the opposite is what seems to happen, each day and everyday. It gets to the point where the line between you and the voice in your head starts getting blurrier. Some days its hard to say which one is your voice. Every morning you wake up thinking, this is the day I can conquer and every night you’re back in your bed thinking, “What’s the damn point! Is this all even worth it?”.

You want it all to stop, so you ask for help. People tell you if you exercise a little or may be just went out a little more, you’d be fine. So you do that, you try that as well. But no matter where you are, your thoughts don’t leave you alone. You envy people, you envy them everywhere you go. And you loath yourself, because chores like brushing your teeth is an enormous pain in the ass. “Why you cannot be more like them? Because, obviously, something is wrong with you. Very much wrong with you”. That voice is back at it again, continuously telling you what a pathetic piece of shit you are.

The pain of your own existence has started to eat you alive, its insufferable. You now desperately want it to go away so you’ll do anything, I repeat, anything, to make you feel better. And, when even that fails, you hit rock bottom. You think you’ve hit rock bottom before, but no, you were wrong.

This rock bottom is the worst thing and sometimes the best thing that can happen to you. If you do seek professional help, they do hear your last cry for help and lend you a helping hand and from there things starts getting better. No, I’m not saying magically the voices go away and you start loving yourself infinitely. Its just that now the days are a bit easier and nights are little less harder.

When I say movies about traveling whats the first movie that comes to your mind? Undoubtedly, it has to be ‘Into the Wild‘. Everyone has seen that movie by now and it has made us think at least once to give up our lives and leave for the Himalayas. Well, if you haven’t seen the movie yet, I have no clue what are you waiting for.

So here is my mini playlist of movies that comes to mind when I hear ‘Wanderlust’.

I was always good with Maths, Science, Quizzes and Logical thinking. So when I discovered coding, it was an instant connection and I knew I had found something I can do all my life. Little did I know that stereotypically, girls and computers aren’t a good combination.

Almost all of your male colleagues look at you as some frail, dumb, dismissive being who needs to be mansplained, in need of constant help and favors to do her job just because of your gender. So yeah, I guess gender is very important when it comes to coding and unfortunately, girls and coding is just not mean to be. Here’s why:

1. First things first, how do I type with these long perfectly manicured nails? And what if one if it broke? That would be the end of my freaking world.

2. So are you telling me I cannot ask a guy next to me to do all my work? But aren’t all guys meant for that?

3. Oh god, please! Do you really expect me to understand what to do with my laptop other than using FB and YouTube?

4. I probably need my dad/boyfriend by my side. Writing a code is not easy. Taking all these decisions by yourself like which loop to use and what goes where! I’ve never done that in my life.

5. With all my mood swings and crying for major reasons like chipping off a nail how am I supposed to code? You tell me? Is that even worth it?

6. And don’t even get me started on being on periods. I can’t even handle my own body at the moment and you throw at me thousand lines of code? Are you even human?

7. You mean to say I am supposed to use my brain here? Do girls even have one? Now you tell me that!

8. Coding is truly a men’s profession. You cannot expect women to spend hours in front of a computer. Everyone knows a woman’s place is in the kitchen or in the beauty parlor.

9. I’ve been told again and again that women should have a simpler career where she can be able to manage her house and her children and then if there is some spare time, her work.

10. Anyway, even if a girl starts coding nobody would take her seriously. Almost every guy would be busy mansplaining her and taking her for granted. So yeah, why bother!
Ps: Sarcasm alert!

Now, I needed those flowers more than anything, but guess what! I had plucked my whole garden for him and now there were left none for me. It was getting harder for me to live with my dark gray self and so was for him. And one fine day he had had it enough. He couldn’t stand how gloomy, and dark I was. He gave up and left. My whole world came tumbling down. Now I had nothing, not even my secret garden which I had worked so hard for. The drought was killing everything slowly, even my mind. It was no good for my already dying garden. The garden had turned into a tragic barren land.

I cried for days and weeks, back and forth, I screamed but there was no one to listen to but me. Those were some of the darkest days of my life. I contemplated, scrutinized and cursed every living moment of my life. I really wished I didn’t exist. I thought this was it, it was the end of my fucking world. I had no hope. And what was I supposed to hope for? Someone, who would find me crying, take my hand and save me from myself? Life ain’t any fairy tale, I realized, but it was too late I guess. I was tired.

Months went by, and I kept holding on thinking about the memories I had of myself, the person I was before. It was the only thing that made me smile now and then. I kept wondering if I could be anything of that sort again. Slowly and steadily I had some strength to at least stand upon the ground and walk by myself. That was it when I decided it was time. It was time to start new, start new someplace else, this secret garden had nothing for me anymore.

I took one last glance at the place that meant everything to me and started strolling towards the gate. When I was about to step out of the gate I saw something shining so brightly that it caught my eye immediately. It was nothing but a tiny little rosebud aiming for the sun, gleaming with dew drops. And first time in forever I smiled widely and thought to myself that no matter what there is still little hope for me. I knew my summer would come some day, and today it is here.

And then there was no turning back. I didn’t leave. I started all over again as not everybody gets a chance to live, a chance to do everything all over again. And this time I am not missing it. My secret garden one day will be back and maybe this time it will be better than it was before and this time I am not giving up on it ever again.

I was 10 years old when I came across a movie called Secret Garden, and I loved everything about it. A lonely girl, who still has hope, making new friends, getting hold of her life, and of course, discovering a secret garden full of roses. What’s not to like! Eventually, as the days passed by, I forgot about it.

Then recently, I came across this classic song by Bruce Springsteen of the same name and it took me back in time. The lyrics ‘She had a secret garden’ was everything. That, literally, hit me, that I too once had a secret garden, which no one ever had been a part of. It was my happy, as well as my dark place. People came and left, but nobody ever tried to break in. I had purposely made the walls too high, because what was the point of my secret garden if anyone could enter it. I was content with my flowers, they were everything I ever wanted, but fate had some different plans.

One day, I could hear someone crying in the distance. I tried to ignore it as much as I could but it kept growing. I couldn’t take it anymore, it was disturbing my gardens harmony. So I left, that right there was my biggest mistake. I was standing at the gate and could see this guy, completely gray, crying for help. I knew I had to help him, as I was in his place once. I know how it feels to be alone and helpless. So I held his hand and brought him back to my orchard which was full of joy and colors, unlike him.

I wanted to make him happy, I wanted him to able to see the colors around me, feel them, be a part of them. So, I plucked a flower, it did hurt, but I did it anyway and gave it to him. I could feel a little part of me losing color, but I did it anyway. The little flower right in front of his nose made him smile a bit. It made me feel much better than before. I couldn’t stop but show him around my garden. My naive little mind wanted him to be as radiant and colorful as I was.

So, there it goes… We were living, laughing, dreaming in my garden and whenever I saw him a bit upset I would pluck some more flowers and hand it to him. This went on for days and months. There came a time when he was exactly what I wanted him to be, he quickly blossomed into several colors and soon he was a completely different person, but then, so was I. I reeked of grayness and no radiance at all. If you made me stand in front of a mirror I wouldn’t recognize my own self. I was sad, lost, and all alone…